Chapter 23: What It Means To Be Human
Obliviousness had never been such a Goddess-send until today. Liara melted against the lockers in the comfort of her plush robe, resting her head on the chilly metal to cool herself down. She was ever so thankful and counted all her blessings that she'd been able to avoid the landmine of a conversation with Lucy, who said she had really wanted to visit the markets before the sales ended - and to go back to the cafeteria to pay for the damages she'd caused to their table.
A small ache burrowed in Liara's heart. It left her in a muddled state when she still felt faint throbbing in the pits of her belly, her mind wildly racing to try and make sense of everything that just happened between them. She couldn't stop smiling - but she was damned.
"How am I supposed to talk to Lucy about what happened?"
She blushed fiercely just at the prospect of it all.
On one hand, it made her wonder just how much the soldier had known - and what type of 'research' she was doing exactly, if she didn't clue in to what was happening. A new layer of warmth consumed Liara's complexion and unhinged her, shooting her straight up into standing as she dumped her sopping drenched clothes in the laundry chute.
"Had she never experienced that... Pleasure... Herself? Even by her own actions?"
It was cast out of her mind as soon as it entered. She pinched the collar of the robe to hide her throat and put on the sandals she'd been given, then left the locker rooms with her stomach in turmoil. She knew the Normandy was a ghost ship, apart from some technicians flitting about to perform maintenance, but it didn't make it any less humiliating to be caught like this.
"Just head straight for my quarters, no detours, no interruptions. Dress as fast as possible before somebody walks in and see the bruise."
Curiosities and emotions tangled intimately together when her brain traversed multiple planes of thought as she sped-walked to her quarters. What did Lucy want to buy from the markets? Was it the gifts she'd wanted to get to 'make it up' to the archaeologist because of the bruise? What about her wounds, and how was she going to handle stepping off the Normandy, to face the source of her trauma when she was shot?
"It's not traumatic to her," thought a disgruntled voice. "It's more so to me than her, and there is something severely wrong with that."
No wonder Dr. Chakwas was so assured that the Commander would be fine, no matter what would've happened. It was not a promising sign of just how often Lucy actually did attain injuries, for all her confidence and assurances that they were minor. Goddess, Liara was willing to bet all her remaining credits that even the wound the soldier had sustained now was considered minor, especially when she had treated the shot like it was no big deal right from the moment she'd opened her eyes.
"It was a big deal. Is. If she saw what I had seen, she'd surely be disturbed."
Would she?
"All of this is so confusing," Liara inwardly sighed. The sensations that lingered on her body was throwing her in for a loop, and she was caught in a conundrum where she so desperately just wanted to feel Lucy's body against hers again - and scold her to hell and back for her audacious bravado that she was 'fine', that she only sustained a cursed 'scratch'.
Safety welcomed Liara when she entered her quarters and saw it was still empty, smiling to herself upon observing the state of all the marines' beds. Poor Addison, likely grilling and just as likely ignored by Helen, with the sorry mess the bunk bed was in. There was a crooked lip in Talitha's sheets, still ever-so-likely that Helen messed with her fellow marine and left her mischievous signature by pulling on the blanket when they'd all left.
"Probably out of revenge that Lucky's taken to Talitha instead of Helen and her bribery."
Liara chuckled at that. She could hear Shepard's voice in the back of her mind, correcting bribery with 'tribute'. It made her huff and she ignored that voice as she sought out her clothes. After she dressed and hung her robe on the corner post of her bed to dry, she climbed halfway up the ladder to retrieve her journal. She took to the table to write down all her thoughts and feelings, whatever struck her as needed to be jotted down first, before anything else.
When it was all out of her system, she tried to read it in a small exercise to study and reflect on her own emotions. It was an even more confusing and chaotic mess than the 'obvious signals' Lucy would give her. It was all jumbled and incoherent, a sentence describing an image from the meld, following by the firmness of Lucy's hands on her hamstrings.
Intense heat trickled in at her cheeks. She tried to take the clearly concerning sentences seriously, but it was so hard when it was almost always followed by what had happened in those locker rooms.
By the end of her read, she swore she was insane for how her cheeks ached with the smile she couldn't stop.
"I'm turning into Lucy," came the horrifying thought. "I need to feel my feelings, work through my trauma. Perhaps I should seek out Dr. Chakwas' counsel? But, oh, then she'll know the nature of my relationship with the Commander, and Lucy might get in trouble, and maybe others will somehow find out, and-"
Liara's head fell on the table with a groan.
"Who am I kidding? Dr. Chakwas already knows. She revealed as much when she said she had her suspicions and was observing Lucy's behaviour. What happened in the infirmary was no doubt a confirmation of everything she's ever suspected, and more."
All in all, her most pressing concern was the way her thighs were pressed tightly against each other. Liara tried to ignore the fluttering of her heart, of her belly, of the ache between her legs. She climaxed. Though it wasn't anything strong, it still caught her off guard and left her breathless that she'd done so at all, and with Lucy - in a scandalous setting, where anyone could have walked in on them if they returned from shore leave, and then their secret would be out and-
"Not helping," she murmured pitifully to herself, the muscles of her groin protesting from being overworked in firmly clasping her knees together.
That blissful friction, oh how wonderful it was. What would it feel like to have that friction be due to fingers, rather than clothes?
Liara lifted her head just far enough to thunk it against the table.
She couldn't take this anymore. She was still pent up with so much buzzing inside of her and needed to get it out of her system before she would implode. She glanced around the quarters and made sure she truly was alone before she relinquished her suit and snuck back into bed, pulling the sheets up to ensure her throat was covered. She peeked again over the edge, her face throbbing with warmth over the scandalous thoughts she was entertaining. She hid completely under her sheets to hide her burning complexion as she tried to quell the fierce beating of her heart, holding her breath and stilling whenever she had heard noises and footsteps outside her quarters.
Panic dulled when she recalled and walked through the memory of Lucy against her, biting her lip as she touched herself to bring that sweet release again. It didn't take long for her to soar back to those heights, especially when her memory caved in to the temptation of far more racy thoughts, imagining that it was the soldier touching her body again.
Sheets nearly flew with a fury when the door hissed open, and decisive footsteps entered the quarters. Liara's eyes snapped open and her heart clamoured right up to her throat, chiselling bones away as she held her breath. She panicked when those footsteps seemed to be coming towards her, and she revealed her eyes as she poked out from under the sheet so that she could at least have a chance to tell Helen not to be cruel and rip the sheets off her again.
It wasn't Helen.
Bright green lines stared back at her, the glasses shed, the confusion in them still adorably easy to see. Lucy tilted her head, the bags in her hand lowering to thud against the ground.
"Did I wake you? Are you feeling unwell, seeking bed rest? Did you catch cold?"
"No, Shepard, I-"
"I'm not Dr. Chakwas, but I do have my own remedies to deal with colds, Liara." Lucy padded herself down, frowning when she tapped the elbow of her synthetic arm for the plates to unlock. She pried compartments apart to peek inside. "What the hell? Where do I have my taser?"
Oh, no. No no no, no no, no.
"T-taser?"
Dread slammed Liara's guts, this situation unravelling to be a far more dangerous one than the mortification of getting caught over what she was just doing. She prayed the sheets wouldn't be ripped off now before she'd be scolded for not dressing warmly either.
"Yes, shocking colds out of your system works great." Lucy locked her synthetic arm back up. "Then I'm going to get rope and tie you in a bundle of blankets to sweat it out. Then I'll go search our kitchen to see if we have anything spicy for you to eat."
Electrocution and being tied up. What a wonderful home remedy.
"Why does that not surprise me?"
Liara's arm shot out as she reached for the soldier, who was still too far to be touched. She shyly swatted at Lucy's bangs.
"I don't have a cold, Shepard. I'm just... N-napping." She narrowed her eyes. "And how did you know to find me in here?"
"I hacked your omni-tool for your coordinates," Lucy confessed nonchalantly, clearly not seeing that she'd done anything wrong when she had the nerve to cross her arms and frown. "You're napping? Unacceptable, especially at this hour. It's important to stay productive, or else you will turn into a sloth."
Liara rolled her eyes. "I'm not suddenly going to spend the rest of my life in bed, Shepard. Why don't you show me what you bought?"
At that, the distraction worked miracles. Excitement was back in Lucy's eyes, and she strutted over to the main table where Helen's tower of balanced cards was promptly swept off - oh the horror. That was going to break her heart and Liara wasn't going to hear the end of those tears for a few days. Not when she'd been working on it for a week. The bags rested atop the graveyard and the soldier didn't seem to be questioning the nature of the cards, too absorbed by the fruits of her own labour.
Upon pulling out her first gift, Liara's heart soared, swelling almost painfully even more so with the way Lucy smiled with pride.
"I told you I wouldn't be defeated, that I'd find one."
A sand-coloured robe.
"And look! I got another one for me, too. They're more expensive than the ones on Thessia, and if Chief Williams said it's not good for morale to play favourites, then we should probably hide these ones in my quarters and use them only for..." Lucy's brow pinched. And then she looked down at the robe in conflict. "Shit. What's going to be the point of these, now?"
"Why don't we find out?" Liara sparked momentum again, shedding the sheets as she begun her rapid descent down the ladder. She ignored the soldier's frown and had even stuck it to Lucy by smiling impishly, having grown used to the heat taking up permanent residence in her face as she gestured to herself in her underwear. "Contrary to your belief, I was actually burning up, rather than freezing."
"Still not a good sign," Lucy grumbled, "It's probably a fever. You need to-"
"Go to your quarters so that we can try our robes on, already."
She laughed when her suit was thrown at her, with the soldier scolding her for not dressing up faster.
Anxiety wracked Shepard's guts upon watching Liara through the mirror's reflection. The soldier tightened her own rope's belt and winced when she'd accidentally aggravated her wound, looking down as she pondered how to tie it loosely. Her eyes snapped up when movement whirled around ahead of her, and her heart quickened when blue fingers gently warded hers away.
"Allow me, please," Liara chuckled warmly. She stole a chaste peck on the lips as she tied the rope deftly, without needing to watch.
There was more in the bags. Shepard started off with these because she knew she'd get a favourable reaction - after all, she was fulfilling a request. But now? The other things, they weren't requests. Would Liara like them? Accept them? The soldier didn't like not knowing, and her doom was fast approaching when Liara sauntered over to peek inside the bags.
"What else did you find at the markets? Hopefully not a grenade launcher."
"Oh, no." Shepard was frozen. She smiled nervously and slightly shook her head. Her lie was bought - for now. "She absolutely cannot see what my locker looks like now."
Helpless, she watched as Liara reached inside the bag and plucked out a small long box. Shepard wiped her hand on her robe when that disgusting clammy feeling wouldn't go away. She knew she was utterly fucked when the asari opened the box and made the most obvious expression of bewilderment.
"Vials?" Liara carefully extracted one from it's soft padding, holding the minuscule jar in between the tip of her index and thumb. "These are the tiniest I've ever seen. I used to have something similar on my digs, but much bigger, in order to store the materials I'd sifted and wanted to run it through the machines for analysis. Can you even take these stoppers out?" Liara rotated the vial. "And why are there holes in the stopper?"
"Of course. I should've gotten her something she could actually use on her no-boundary thing. That would've been the sensible gift, a pragmatic one. One she'd actually appreciate because then it would have a use, and therefore meaning, and... Fuck. I don't know anything about archaeology. I don't have time to research and go back to the markets right now, either."
Hesitantly, Shepard approached. She smiled and smiled, unable to trust in finding her voice in her throat. She simply stared back and prayed the archaeologist would figure it out.
She didn't.
"Shepard?"
Shepard cleared her throat as smoothly as she could. She sounded like a dying varren and grimaced, diverting her eyes off to the wall so that she wouldn't see the face Liara would make once she found out how dumb these gifts are clearly proving themselves to already be.
"Y-you were on the right path in, uh, in the storing materials part. Grainy materials, to be specific. Uh, for these vials, I mean. Like to store grainy materials in them." Shepard thrust herself in a diversion by inspecting the deep blue colour of her robe. She waited, and waited, and waited, now suddenly desiring to be anywhere but here. "If you don't like it, you don't have to wear it. After the grainy stuff is put in there, I mean. And then rope. I got thin rope too, lots of varieties for you to choose - didn't know which one you'd like. Got sand-coloured rope too. It's heavy-duty carbon fibre nylon filament, so it won't be so easy to break off or cut. I remember somebody's dossier saying they used to do bead work, so maybe they won't mind installing the clasps on the rope after... If there's ever a decision to... Uh. Wear them."
Something tingled down her arm and made the hairs raise when Liara laughed softly. Her fingers gently cupped Shepard's chin.
"Could you look up at me, please?"
"Is it a requirement for this conversation?"
"Yes," Liara blew with a breathless giggle. "I need your help deducing what grainy material you intend to fill these vials with."
"Well, we have to fly there. Then we have to take the sky-car, so, well, right now they're empty. They'll probably be empty for a while - we can't really afford to drop by Thessia right now. I'll be submitting a request to our requisitions officer to get those robes for the crew, though, so maybe I can ask him if he can somehow get the sand too, and-"
"Slow down right there. Sand?"
Liara bent at the knees and dipped under to force herself in Shepard's line of sight, who promptly looked away. The asari simply met her again, her smile growing each time they'd diverted to a different direction. Shepard turned around, only for cheeky hands to hook on her shoulders as their eyes met in the mirror. The soldier groaned.
"You're the most stubborn asari I've ever met."
"You're the most stubborn human I've ever met," Liara rebutted with a lilt. She brushed the soldier's hair over the other shoulder and pressed a sweet swift kiss to the nape. "Did you want to fill these vials with sand from Skymeadow beach, then turn them into necklaces?"
Unable to meet Liara's eyes, Shepard looked down at the ground and nodded. "I won't be able to wear it - regulations and all. At least for missions. The vials would probably shatter beneath my suit anyways, with the forces I usually contend with on the job. But you could, at least, you know..." She cleared her throat again to try and get rid of the tiny pebble lodged in there. "I remember feeling how much you missed your home, back when we... Melded. So." She shrugged lamely. "I know it's not the same as being home, but I thought you could at least carry a little piece with you. W-well I know the beach isn't your home, but you did say you'd visit there when-"
Liara was slow, in the way she circled around the soldier, but her mouth was not. She'd almost missed her mark, catching the corner of Shepard's lips. That vehemence returned, and the way her hands seemed so frantic was cause for concern. Shepard scooped them up as she leaned back to break the kiss.
"Is everything okay? Are you doing what I do by making me shut up like this?"
A dangerous glint flashed by those heavenly blue eyes. "You kiss me to silence me?"
"Well, yeah. I like to listen to you, Dr. T'Soni, but sometimes you talk too much for even me to handle it."
Liara huffed, but her smile never left her face. "And here I was thinking how you're the sweetest human I've ever met." She stole another kiss. "I love these gifts, Shepard. Thank you. I'm... Afraid I don't have anything for you."
"Not a problem. Not necessary. I made a promise with the robes, and I've never desired anything beyond your companionship. There is one more thing, though." Shepard pulled away and went to the second shopping bag, procuring two bottles of wine. "This one's for me," she gently shook the one in her synthetic hand. "It's much stronger - will very much likely poison you if you drink it, so the other bottle is for you. I want to get drunk with you, for once."
"You didn't get drunk before?" Liara's brow arched in surprise. "Even after a bottle?"
"Well, at first I thought you were a light weight, until our conversation about gene therapy reminded me: my liver functions have been enhanced as part of the package I had selected for my augmentations. It helps filter out poison in my system, but the drawback is that it's very efficient in diluting and filtering alcohol as well." Shepard stuffed the bottles away in her cabinet and smiled apologetically when the asari seemed confused. "We won't be able to right now. Maintenance has finished and they're loading up the final supplies in the hangar bay, so I'll be sending out a message to the crew that shore leave is over."
"Oh..." Liara looked down and ran a disappointed hand down her robe. "Should I change, then?"
"If you'd like to, but it's not necessary. I was hoping for your assistance, actually. I'll need to step out momentarily to organize things up at the CiC and our flight plan... If you don't mind waiting here, in the mean time?"
The asari's head cocked cutely in confusion. "Assistance with what?"
Anxiety jolted through Shepard again. This was going to make it real, this commitment, and she was going to be held accountable if she told Liara. She knew she would be. Was she ready? Could she actually connect with her crew? She was supposed to start with Chief Williams, and this was a major leap beyond that - especially for not getting any practice or learning the do not's before this rigorous trial. This was uncharted territory. She needed to be cautious.
But she'd recently been learning that the dive into the unknown could be just as pleasant as it was frightening.
"I've done some thinking since our conversation, regarding the crew feeling a disconnect with me. I'd like to attempt to remedy that. I was planning to draft a survey in which I will send out the crew and they will choose what they'd like to see from me, or see me do. I don't think I will be making my attempts to connect on an individual level, though. Not now, at least. The agenda I've been altering is already tightly packed with duties and time I'd like to set aside for myself - and us - from now on, so it will likely be a group decision in which I will visit each sector of the crew quarters to do whatever they've come to the conclusion of on their survey."
That did something strange to Liara's eyes, where they lit up more than ever before. It was the happiest Shepard had ever seen her, and she was taken aback when the archaeologist rushed forth to grab her hand, squeezing that contagious energy into her somehow.
"That's a wonderful idea, Shepard. I'd love to help wherever I can."
"I wish I had her confidence," Shepard idly mused, her brow arched in interest. "Well... Alright then." She looked down at herself, saddened by the impending doom. "I must stow my robe away."
"For now," Liara reminded. "You won't be away from it for long."
"One hour is too long," Shepard grumbled. She gently pulled her hand away from the asari's so that she could feel the robe. "It's a different kind of 'soft' than the others, but the materials are the same."
"Perhaps how they process and produce them?" Liara shrugged with her guess. She circled around the soldier and went to the table of bags. "What's in this last one here?"
Shepard panicked. She rushed over and pinched the opening with as smooth of a smile she knew she wasn't mustering, with the way the archaeologist arched her brow and looked at her with coyness now.
"Ah. Mm hm. I see." Liara smirked. "It's something that I know I have to see if you're embarrassed."
"What is that logic? Do archaeologists even know the definition of boundaries?" Shepard breathed incredulously, she pinched harder with her synthetic hand and swatted away the offending blues with her free hand. "And I am not embarrassed."
"Oh, of course not. You're Commander Lucy Fair Shepard, you never get embarrassed."
"My name. I'm in trouble. But she's making a good point too..." The soldier scrutinized cautiously. "Exactly."
"So why not let me see if it's not embarrassing?"
"Because it is embarrassing." Shepard caught on when that smirk grew. "Okay, I see the confusion here." She stole the opportunity to get the bag far away when those blue hands were warded off the handles, hugging it to her as she marched for her closet. "It's going to be embarrassing for you, Liara. I've learned the last few times that this topic seems to cause you great discomfort to converse about."
Pushy hands landed on her shoulders - trying to turn her around, the stubborn asari - up until it seemed like the words got through. Liara's curiosity was going to be the death of her, someday, as she perched her chin to rest on the soldier's organic shoulder. Shepard subtly turned her head to look and study the expression, the marvels of thinking gears turning in those blue orbs.
And then blushing horror.
"Exactly," Shepard chuckled. "See what I mean? You can't even deal with the thought of it."
Eyes narrowed on her in suspicion, but Liara never took her chin off. Her affectionate actions were absurd, but... Very pleasant.
"You could be lying to me so I won't see what's in the bag." The archaeologist gently pinched the side that wasn't wounded. "As I've recently discovered, you're not above lying to me."
"For your own good," Shepard grumbled in a mumble.
"You're only proving my point here."
"Yeah. Well."
She stuffed the bag on the floor of the closet and toed it further down, ensuring that if there were to be any archaeological digging someday, then she'd at least get a minute or two to catch Liara with her trying to squeeze herself into the tight corridor. Shepard gave a pointed look down at those blue orbs blinking innocently at her.
"Expeditions are forbidden in here. Only the rank of Spectre and higher is permitted to enter this closet."
Liara's arms wrapped loosely on the soldier's lower hips, a safe distance from the injury. She blinked innocently again.
"Stop that," Shepard huffed. She had to look away and pretended to busy herself with selecting which of the same 20 uniforms she should don.
"I'll... Stop looking at you?"
"You won't fool me. I'm the fisher, remember? Can't bait me. Stop trying."
"I am so confused now."
"Yeah. Well."
Though she should've been moving, getting on with her day - and most importantly everybody else's day, Shepard couldn't move. She was paralyzed by the arms that were wound around her, the breaths that seeped through the barrier of her robe, and her skin screamed at her to move when she'd caught glimpse of Liara kissing her shoulder. The asari stayed that way, her features slackening in peace as her eyes fluttered shut. Their robes made it easier to feel each other's warmth and curves, something that Shepard wished she was a bit more mindful of back in the locker rooms. Her uniform was too abrasive, then, too thick to feel much beyond the pressure of their bodies pressed closely together.
The memory made the hairs on her arm stand as goosebumps shivered up her spine.
Little shy fingers came up to undo her rope's belt, hooking on the collars of her robe to pull off of her. She wanted to protest, say that she was the Commander and she was perfectly capable of dressing and undressing herself, that this injury on her stomach had absolutely nothing to do with her arms - but Liara made it evident she wasn't helping out of her fretting. She pulled on the soldier's wrist to guide her to turn as the robe fell to the ground, hooking hands back on shoulders as she leaned in to kiss.
Those eyes. They were hungry again.
Something shushed her when she broke the kiss and opened her mouth. Well, purposefully shushed, as a warning was shot from those eyes too. That the asari was maintaining eye contact with her for once seemed to mean something crucial here. Shepard was content with studying, but she wasn't exactly content without a shirt - ready for concerned eyes to dip down to her wound and commence the brain-decimating worries.
"At this rate, Liara will be lucky to live for another 100 years of her 1000 with the way she constantly worries."
Splotches of burgundy were decorating the asari's throat, darkening and masking the bruise - thank god. Her gaze did wander down, but she seemed timid more than anything, not knowing what to do with her hands now. Fingertips roved up the unmarred side of Shepard's stomach, and it sent pleasing tingles everywhere. She closed her eyes to focus on the sensations, breaking the kiss briefly.
"That feels pleasant," she murmured, "I've not felt this before."
"Have you ever even been touched?"
The puzzling inquiry had Shepard open her eyes to try and decipher this secret code. She had a very strong feeling that it wasn't the most obvious answer, that the question was hiding a different question. She couldn't figure it out, though.
"I don't think I'm understanding you, Liara. Everybody's been touched, I mean, even I haven't been able to figure out how to keep people far away from me. It kind of comes with the job. I'm always fighting. Half of my battles are close quarters combat, so touching is bound to be involved at some point. And-"
"No!" Liara chuckled, framing the soldier's face firmly as she pulled in for a kiss, her laughter skipping against lips. "No, no, that's definitely not what I mean. But it answers my question."
"It... Does?" Shepard glanced down as those fingers turned in their path and lightly raked down, eliciting wide-scale shudders as nails skimmed her skin. It brought back that strange skin-screaming sensation, and that burning itch throbbed faintly. The more paths that were traced on her, the more desperate and rash she felt.
That was dangerous.
She abruptly pulled away, creating distance between them as she grabbed Liara's shoulders and pushed to be arm's length apart. She looked down at her stomach, at the way the hairs rose there too, goosebumps slowly fading away without their catalyst to instigate them. Her eyebrows pinched in confusion.
"I haven't seen this in my research yet. How are you doing that? Is this another asari ability, like the melding thing? Do your fingertips have something installed in them?"
When she looked up, there was something in Liara's eyes that she hated. It was like the precursor to sadness, of the inevitable doom that was coming, and Shepard was helpless to stop it.
"I'm not doing anything special," the asari confessed quietly. "I'm just touching you. You deserve to know more than just pain, Shepard."
That didn't answer her question. How could just touch elicit these kinds of reactions? She let go with one hand and experimented as she ran a fingertip down on her stomach, but nothing happened. She had even gone so far as to try with her synthetic hand, and instead it was just a stark chill that chafed her skin. She looked up, confused, especially when Liara chuckled softly.
"It feels better when somebody else does it."
"Why? How?"
Liara gave a sort of half-shrug. "Oh, I don't know the physiological explanation behind it. But..." She cupped the soldier's elbows, pushing downwards so that it broke the straight chain as she moved back in. She flattened her hand against Shepard's stomach again. "It's a connection. I take it that you're not opposed to it?"
"I... No. But it's making it hard to think."
"Are you opposed to that part, then?"
"I need to be able to in the event something happens where sound decisions are needed."
"So you don't see yourself ever relaxing enough, even for a few minutes?"
"Threats can strike at any time." Shepard's brow pinched. "I don't quite understand this line of questioning, Liara. Isn't it all obvious? I'm the Commander, so I need to-"
"Relax. At least from time to time." Liara gave a swift peck on the nose, a most peculiar location. "Just think of it like... When you do your research, or whenever we'll start meditating together."
"Researching is productive," the soldier defended, "I'm not being slothful."
"I wasn't saying you were," Liara chuckled. She gave that kind of smile as if she was being so clever. "Productive, hm?"
Her fingers restarted their paths traced, and Shepard swore there was a literal fog consuming her mind every time nails gently skimmed down the ridges of her muscles. Then the greatest tragedy was committed so casually, as Liara stepped away with the kind of smile that seemed to say she was the only one in on a secret. This coy side of her was maddening.
"I believe you have somewhere you need to be right now, Commander."
"What?" Shepard croaked. She looked down, already missing the sensations. Then she remembered. "Oh, right. Shore leave's over. Time to fly." She pinched her brow in concentration. "I can't remember what else."
"Save the galaxy."
"Right. That." She turned and delved into her closet to get a fresh uniform. "See? Hard to think."
"Mm. Yes. Remind me not to try that on you when we're in the middle of a war zone," Liara laughed softly. She sauntered over to the bed and sat on the edge, seemingly content with waiting.
The soldier eyed her suspiciously. "No expeditions, Dr. T'Soni."
"No, of course not."
"I'll have to punish you accordingly if you disobey my order. Spectre rank, remember that."
"Haven't forgotten."
"I don't want to punish you, Liara."
"You won't have to. Promise."
That suspicion? It wasn't going away. Shepard maintained observation, mindful of where the archaeologist's gaze would flicker about or linger on. Those responses were too smooth, too confident. Confidence wasn't exactly Liara's strength - though of course she was a person of many strengths. Then again, she seemed to have growing confidence in reaching out to Shepard, in connecting with her, in their little ways they sank in comfort as they sought each other's contact.
That suspicion still wasn't going away.
Over the course of her life, Shepard had learned to listen to her instincts more so than her mind. Of course they were at war with each other at times, such as now, but then instincts would chastise in an annoying 'I told you so' way if she didn't heed them. As soon as she snapped her belt in place, she went to retrieve the archaeologist's suit slung over the chair.
Her instincts weren't the only one being listened to.
Liara groaned, having already caught on. "You really don't trust me, so you're going to kick me out?"
Shepard froze in place as she looked at the asari. For once, she was stuck on what to say. There was that perpetual incoming inevitable sadness - was it crueller to lie or admit the truth?
Moral ethics was not something she expected to be exploring in a relationship.
She sighed and reluctantly conceded. "Okay, okay, you can stay... I'll try to have everything organized within the hour. I'll return here after that, but I'll have to go back up to the CiC once all of the crew has come back from their shore leave." She drew up her omni-tool and began to plug away the day's agenda, uploading it to the CiC for those to reference after she had sent out a wide-scale announcement to everybody to come back to the Normandy. She glanced over when Liara engaged her omni-tool after it had pinged her, and her frown was swept away with a smile.
"I don't know, this one part seems far too broad from what your agendas are usually tailored to be like. Draft 'forms', Shepard? That's vague - shouldn't the crew know you're drafting a survey for them?"
"That's not the only form I'd like to work on."
Shepard turned to leave, hoping the archaeologist's brain will be too preoccupied to demystify her meaning than to go digging.
"But that's another surprise for you."
Deliberating the content for surveys was easily Liara's latest favourite hobby, and she couldn't stop herself from smiling as she returned to her quarters to begin discussing with her group as to what they'd like the Commander to do in her determination to connect with them.
Successfully, Lucy was convinced to include things she determined would be 'meaningless' to marines - such as hugging. Only for an allotted length of exactly 4.2 seconds, however she came to that number, but at the very least it was included. Hopefully other sectors won't actually vote for the options Lucy had brainstormed that were still very much invested in military warfare, such as discussing tactics and running verbal simulations of harrowing circumstances, or how to properly care for weaponry.
Rich laughter could be heard far from the other end of multiple corridors, and Liara's pace quickened as she looked forward to observe the group's reactions - especially Helen's, judging by this laughter.
As soon as the door slid opened, Lucky charged right off Talitha and settled on her throne of the asari's shoulder, tail loosely curling around the throat. The quarters was a wonderful mess, the cards seemingly not an issue with Helen whooping and laughing as her omni-tool flailed about in the air. Even Talitha was smiling to herself as she used her knife to trim her nails down.
"Liara, did you see this yet?!" Helen sank her fangs into her immediately. "The survey?"
"I've seen it, yes." She glanced around the room, noted how Tali was missing, as well as Monica and Rosamund. "Do you think the others will come soon?"
"There's no way they won't after they see this," Helen cackled, "And if they don't, I will personally go out and hunt their asses down. This is way too rich! I don't know which one I want more." She waved her omni-tool again and slapped her knee, tears in her eyes. "I can't fuckin' believe this, man! Why am I the only one freaking out over this?"
"We all are," Addison chuckled quietly in her corner, reading and scrolling down the survey list from her bunk bed. "Some of us just have class, Lowe."
"Oh, stuff it!" Helen grinned eagerly as she leaned in her chair, her sights zoning back in on Liara as she had climbed up to her own bunk bed. "You're the only one just as excited for this as I am, I can tell. Which one do you want, Liara? Has to be a group decision we can all agree on." The contents of her list flung rapidly as she made a dismissive wave of her finger, landing squarely at the bottom. "This is a no fuckin' brainer. Seriously. Dancing? The Commander is gonna dance for us in here?" Helen laughed again. "Can we also submit a request on what kind of dancing she'll do?"
"No pole dancing," Addison quipped dryly. "We're scarred enough in our line of work."
"Exactly! This kind of trauma is the best kind of trauma."
"We have to keep in mind that the Commander is injured," Talitha murmured.
Everybody looked at her in surprise.
"What?" Talitha scoffed. "If the Commander collapses and dies from blood loss on her next mission just because she's been lap dancing Helen, we're all fucked."
Heat shot through Liara at the imagery, but not the kind that made a habit of throbbing in her cheeks. She tried to focus on the silliness of this all, of the humorous reactions, but the way Helen was beginning to take this was grating her. Quickly.
"C'mon, don't tell me you've never thought of the Commander that way. Body like that? Woof."
"I'm straight as a board," Talitha chuckled dryly, "So no. You're the only weird one here."
Helen's sharp eyes landed on Liara when she made the mistake of inhaling sharply. The raven-haired marine leaned forward in her chair and grinned. "What about you, doc?"
"Enough Helen," Addison warned already. "You're about to take this too far."
"I'm just asking a simple question!" Helen rose her hands in defence. "Don't mean nothin' bad about it. Honest." Her gaze connected with Liara's, who was trying to force herself to look away.
She knew she was glaring, and worst of all? Helen knew it too.
"Do you think of the Commander that way, doc?"
Liara soldered onto the comfort of Lucky when the pyjak intuitively flicked about to sit on her chest, grubby little hands gently pulling on her nose. She forced herself to shake her head.
"It's against regulations."
"So you've gone woof and thought about it too, huh? The rules don't apply to you, you know. You're not Alliance."
"Lowe," Addison warned again. "Enough."
Helen sighed and leaned back to balance on her chair, kicking her legs up on the table. "Sorry, Liara."
"It's fine," the asari forced through clenched teeth, focusing on Lucky being all up in her face.
Awkward silence draped over the quarters and tension hung over their heads like a cloud. Addison groaned when Talitha just had to make it worse.
"Now if we were talking about Lieutenant Alenko, there's somebody I'd go woof for."
Liara couldn't help but be swept up in the commotion when Helen burst into infectious giggles. "Lucky me, I'll bat for any team. I dunno about his personality since he seems as dry as the Commander, but that ass?" She looked up at the ceiling with a dreamy look. "Woof..."
"Oh my god," Addison groaned. "You two need more shore leave. Wasn't Chora's Den enough for you?"
Liara froze. In the corner of her eye, she could see Helen's head slowly turn towards her. She refused to look, to see if there was even the slightest possibility that her and the Commander have already been caught together - and worse yet, by one of the biggest sources of scuttlebutt on the ship.
"Wasn't all that interesting," Helen simply said.
"Nothing interesting at all," Talitha agreed.
"Oh no. This isn't happening. It can't be happening. What am I supposed to do now?!"
"Coming from you two?" Addison sounded incredibly confused. "Did you catch something there? You should probably get a check up with Dr. Chakwas."
"We're not always horny rabbits Addy, jesus," Helen blew with laughter. "Sometimes you see something more interesting than juicy tits in your face, is all I'm saying."
"She's trying to hint it to Addison. Goddess, what am I supposed to say to stop this?"
"The way that asari clung on-" Talitha started.
Liara was ready to scream, and she almost thanked the Goddess out loud when the door hissed open and put an end to the mischievous shenanigans.
Unfortunately, true to her determination to never knock before entering, Lucy marched in with the worst possible timing ever. All marines snapped up in standing to salute before they'd been given the at ease, where Helen became even more audacious just in the way she had rocked about on the legs of her chair. Talitha had even openly smirked, fist bumping with Helen when the Commander strode straight for Liara.
"This wasn't supposed to get worse after you save me!"
"Dr. T'Soni, I have correspondence for you from an unknown sender."
"Unknown, eh?" Helen joked under her breath.
If only glares could murder.
Lucy spent all of a second to look over at the raven-haired marine, who immediately snapped shut and sat up straighter. Her smile still lingered and dripped with poisonous mischief. The Commander looked back at Liara as she reached up to hold the letter out, her glare immediately settling on Lucky when the pyjak swatted the envelope.
"It has already been checked to ensure there are no harmful chemicals that would threaten your safety or your fellow comrades here," Lucy continued stoically.
"Th-thank you, Commander. You didn't have to deliver it personally," Liara tried to hint, hoping the soldier would miraculously catch on that their act was already over.
"What she said," Helen chuckled again.
Talitha made the marine panic by grabbing the lip of the chair and pulling it further back.
Lucy, curse her obliviousness now, didn't seem to catch on to the underlying panic here. She simply turned and headed for the exit, announcing it on her way out. "Please submit the results of your survey soon. There is only 10 minutes left until the deadline."
With that, the saviour was gone, damning Liara to a deeper level of hell instead - true to Lucy Fair indeed.
"Okay, what on Earth is happening here?" Addison asked as soon as the door hissed shut.
Helen and Talitha erupted into laughter. Liara promptly hid the letter from the 'unknown sender' right under her pillow, deducing that it was likely whatever other form Lucy had drafted up in a surprise for her. She flipped on her stomach to hide her burning face in the pillow, ignoring the way Lucky took advantage of the opportunity to jump on her shoulder blades in the process. She knew there was no stalling this, no stopping this.
"Liara and the Commander are an item, that's what's happening here," Helen laughed. "I'll bet this survey is all thanks to the doc."
"No," Liara meekly squeaked out from her pillow. "She really does want to connect with the crew and the survey was her idea. I just helped with the list."
"Yeah, you can tell which ones. I can really hear the Commander with the dancing and hugging parts, and Liara droning on forever about tactics and the latest Armax arsenal."
Liara blindly threw her pillow at the source of all evil.
"Aw, c'mon doc! Don't be mad. It's a good thing, just hard to believe what I saw, is all. You two looked real fucking cute though."
"I am so lost," Addison sighed. "Okay so the other part about the... Item thing... Is this true, Dr. T'Soni?"
Liara didn't have anything to muffle her, and she accidentally kicked Lucky off in her haste to pull the sheets over her head. Her chest ached and her throat burned to keep it contained in her, but it didn't last long when she felt a worried hand blindly feel along until it rested on her shoulder.
"You can talk to us," Addison encouraged. "You're not in trouble."
"I'm not, but the Commander is," Liara sighed. "And I don't like being teased."
"You let me worry about that, then. I'll string Helen up for a harassment rep every time she bothers you about it."
"What?! C'mon Chase, that's not fair! Don't I have any say in this?"
"Yeah, y'just don't say anything at all and don't be mean."
Helen blew a raspberry. "Not bein' mean."
"You were earlier, for teasing her the way you had when you already knew."
Liara shifted a little and interjected quietly. "I don't want anybody to argue over this, please."
Addison sucked in a sharp breath. She patted blindly again. "If it's true, you really aren't in trouble. Helen actually made a good point and - ow! I was agreeing with you!"
"Didn't have to say actually," came the sarcastic drawl.
"Anyways," Addison seethed through clenched teeth, "As I was saying... Regulations don't apply to you - nor the Commander. Neither of you will get in trouble for fraternization because you aren't with the Alliance. You're alright, Dr. T'Soni. Don't mind the teasing, I'm sure Helen is just happy for you."
"Hell yeah! I mean, have you seen the Commander's body? Woof. You're a lucky gal, doc."
The sheets shot off when that burning feeling exploded in Liara, and she pushed herself up quickly. Too quickly to catch on, before her head thunked against the ceiling. Pain diffused all along her skull and she clutched it in her series of ow's, to which only Addison cooed it away with soothing words of encouragement for the agony to fade away.
When Liara's eyes met Helen's, her anger dissipated upon seeing the raven-haired marine's genuine smile.
"The Commander's way luckier, and you just tell me if she never treats ya right." She leaned forward eagerly. "I gotta know though... Is her sexy talk all about orders, missions, and ordering missions?"
Addison grabbed the pillow and proceeded to assault Helen with it, who laughed it all away as Liara was condemned to her new fate of eternally blushing. She quickly folded the letter and stuffed it in her pocket, climbing down her ladder to escape these quarters. She was caught off guard when Helen bounced up and drew her in a quick hug.
"Really didn't mean nothing bad by it doc, I'm happy for ya. Please don't be mad."
"I-I'm not mad," Liara promised. "I just... Need to..."
"Warn the Commander?" Helen pulled away with a tense smile. "Don't have to. Your secret's safe with me - with all of us, promise. That kinda news ain't mine to spread. That's up to you."
Liara melted with relief. "Thank you, Helen." She felt lightness, a weight lifted off her shoulders. The marines didn't seem to be upset, or suspicious, or wondering if she was a spy or not. She didn't quite have all that much to fear, other than the inevitable teasing. She smiled more readily. "Then if you'll excuse me, I'd like to witness the Commander panic over how many sectors are choosing 'hugging' and 'dancing'."
"Atta girl," Helen grinned evilly. She rose her omni-tool. "I vote dancing." She glanced over her shoulder at the others. "I'm saying we all already have made the decision when the others get here. They snooze, they lose."
"I'm pretty sure they're going to want 'hugging' or 'dancing' too," Talitha shrugged. "They always complained before about the Commander making them uncomfortable. This is their revenge."
"Oh, Goddess. Lucy's about to have her hands full planning to get revenge on every single marine on this ship, once she finds out their reasons behind making her uncomfortable."
"Send me a message when you've all put your votes in, I want to watch her face when I input mine right in front of her," Liara smiled.
"And here I thought I couldn't like ya even more than I already do." Helen laughed and patted her shoulder. "I know I promised not to gossip, but you at least have to tell me what the Commander's like with all of this. Please?"
"I'll think about it." She squatted down when Lucky came running over, patting her head apologetically. "Stay with them, or the Commander's surely going to murder you during her panic attack."
Lucky whined sadly, and she sighed. She could feel all the marines bearing down on her with disapproving eyes.
"I don't like it either, and I'm working on it. It's taking longer than I expected for these two to get along."
"I'm okay with that," Talitha mumbled. She clicked her tongue and patted her thigh for Lucky to come running over. "Commander can take all the time she needs."
"Alright, get going already!" Addison was the one who caved in to eagerness and began to shove the asari out the door. "...I wanna hear all about it too."
"See? I knew I wasn't the only one!" Helen cried out in victory.
Liara slithered out as she tried to wipe her smiles off her face, biting the inside of her cheeks to no avail. Those women have no idea just how relieved she truly was - they certainly were something special, and deserved a special dance from the Commander. It was going to be one of the highlights of Liara's life to witness this. She nearly raced to Lucy's quarters, hoping to even catch the soldier in action for frantically researching what dance to practice - but before she did, she took a pit stop in the washroom and hid in the stalls to read the letter from the 'unknown sender'.
It was an envelope within an envelope, where the second was signed in the human's alphabet: Lucy Fair Shepard.
Liara's heart swelled and she carefully ran her fingertip to trace the handwriting. It was fully written out, a conscious decision, a hope of a road paved to recovery. She tried to fix the wrinkles she made and regretted folding it, but she didn't want Helen to see and question and tease her for the contents later. Liara pulled out the letter, stumped to see a big bold title.
[CONSENT FORM]
"Why... Do I have this?"
Two other pages were stuffed inside the envelope. One was a waiver, and the other was a letter that Lucy had written. Liara frantically typed into her omni-tool to translate the letter for herself.
[Dear Dr. T'Soni;
I hope you are having a good day. I have been enjoying mine, thanks to you. To the point: I believe we are both ready and I desire to engage in coitus with you.]
"Not coitus," Liara inwardly groaned, her cheeks heating up to a whole new level now that she knew where this letter was going.
[During my research, I have read that consent is critical before proceeding to be intimate, and at times can even be 'sexy'. Thus, I decided to draft this consent form and tailored it to be personal with you. Whenever you are ready, please sign the consent form at the bottom and submit it to me at your earliest convenience. I have also attached a waiver to sign in the event we accidentally injure each other during the act of intercourse between us, as some documentaries have shown me that it can be an aggressive act, at times. Statistics reveal there is a high incidence of pulled muscles and scratches.]
Blank of thoughts but not feelings, Liara stared at the letter. She quietly folded it back up and stuffed it in the envelope, skimming the consent form to see what was even possibly personally tailored. It seemed to be exactly like the consent forms she'd need her mother to sign for permission to go on a school trip. She couldn't react. She refused to react. She refused to think, to let anything have a chance to sink in. She needed to move, to stay focused on her goal of getting to witness Lucy have the panic attack, not the other way around.
With all the calm and composure she could muster, Liara set on her way for the Commander's quarters. She hadn't bothered to knock this time herself either and abruptly invited herself in like a certain human. She came face-to-face with a most entertaining sight: energetic music playing loudly, Lucy with hands on her hips and a stoic expression as she watched a tutorial video on how to dance.
"I take it many surveys have been electing the dancing option?" Liara announced her presence, smirking when Lucy scrambled to shut everything off and smile nervously at her. Her confident act was decimated before she put any effort to keeping it up.
"What am I supposed to do, Liara? Why are all my marines choosing dancing?" She balked, scoffing. "It's the least meaningful thing! You would think they would want something memorable with me, to learn valuable tips on how to survive-"
"Oh, believe me, this is still going to be very memorable." Liara approached decisively and pulled on the soldier's hands, coming to the center of the room. She tried not to laugh at how the bolts were undone and the half-crushed table was flipped upside down in the corner. "This is to help you connect with them on an emotional level, Shepard. Your crew has had enough of the professional side of you. This is everybody's chance to see the human side of you."
"But dancing?" Lucy lamented with a defeated sigh. She made pitiful eyes at her terminal. "I don't see the purpose of it. I can't 'feel the rhythm' as every bloody video keeps telling me to do."
"You don't have to be perfect." Liara pulled on the hands until they wound around her, encouraging them to rest on her waist. "I don't know how to either. It's all about making a happy memory, Shepard - for you, and for the crew. May I choose a song and dance with you?"
"What? Even you want to dance?" Lucy's eyebrows knit together adorably. "I would have thought that you, of all people, would want me to be... I don't know..."
Liara seized permission for herself as she temporarily pulled away to search for a song on the terminal. A familiar piano tune rebounded off the safety of these walls, bringing her mind back to one of her very first digs, where her and her group had to seek shelter in a cavern because of a storm raging outside. She came back and held out her hand, waiting patiently until the soldier drew in and intertwined fingers with her.
"I may not be able to perform with you, but I can practice with you after this dance of ours," Liara offered. "It's a short song, but it's dear to me."
Warmth invoked deep in her chest when her answer came in being drawn in against Lucy's body, being held somewhat awkwardly as they tried to rock about in slow circles. The asari could hear the confusion screaming within thoughts, and smiled every time Lucy would pull away to look at her as if she was trying desperately to solve this mystery.
Finally, Lucy seemed to relax halfway through the song and simply settled to just be. She turned her face in and tucked it against Liara's neck.
"Yet another happy memory you're helping me create," the soldier murmured contentedly. "You're like... You're like... I don't know. You see the darkness living inside, the phantom that's there. But you're like... A star in the night sky. You take the fear under the skin and burn the darkness away. You see, you don't have to be afraid that you don't have anything to give me. You've already been giving me everything, Liara, and you keep giving me this every day." She pressed her lips to Liara's pulse. "The chance to figure out what it means to be human."